Time Clock Hero

by Donovan, Spikes

  At the double glass doors on the ground floor, Phoenix waved his key fob, the one Chief Cobb had forgotten to relieve him of, but the door refused to open. He called Alaia.

  “Hello, Phoenix, you jailbird you,” Alaia said playfully and with a ring of gladness in her voice. “Where are you?”

  “At the rear bottom door. Let me in.”

  “Darkeem’s on the way.”

  “You sound pretty calm for someone who just heard an explosion,” Phoenix said.

  “No, I just know my life’s easier now. We’ll talk when you get up here.” Her voice faded away, like she’d turned away from the phone, and then she ended the call.

  Phoenix glanced around the back side of the NPD building impatiently. Then he heard the elevator just inside the glass doors open. He turned and saw Darkeem pushing on the exit device on the inside of the glass door.

  Darkeem was just young kid, always with a smile on his face, and fairly stout, but he walked in a way that told people he could handle himself. His face, attached to a head sticking out from an over-sized Titan’s jersey, had not a single blemish, but there was an unmistakable aura of energy and wit about him that seemed to spark like live wires crashing into one another. He smiled when Phoenix walked in and, because he was glad to see him, reached out to hug him instead of motioning for a handshake. Then he rubbed the top of his closely cut hair and, without batting an eyelash, told Phoenix that his mother needed him.

  “She’s up in your old office, and she doesn’t think she likes it,” Darkeem said.

  “Don’t let her fool you,” Phoenix said hurriedly, as he walked into the elevator, immediately reaching for the second floor button. The dust from the explosion, though Phoenix had been in the car, covered his shoulders. When he shook his head, a small cloud filled the elevator.

  “You’re not going to leave here, are you?” Darkeem asked with his eyes trained on Phoenix. “You’re gonna stay, right?”

  “I guess that depends on your mom,” Phoenix said.

  “Nobody ever stays with her. They do for a little while, but then they’re off for someone better – that’s what mom always says. But now we live in your office, so you have nowhere else to go. You have to stay.”

  “Looks like it,” Phoenix said, and when the doors opened, he hurried out into the hall on the second floor with Darkeem in close pursuit.

  Alaia wasn’t in his office. He waited in the hall until she showed up. A few minutes later, she came in carrying a five-gallon jug of filtered water. He took it from her and carried it into her office.

  “The water mains were hit,” she said. “But that’s good – because the water system’s been Psyked.”

  “You got the video, so you saw what happened.”

  “And no word from the mayor or anybody,” Alaia said. “I’m telling you – it’s just me and NPD right now. It’s like everyone’s gone.”

  “You wanted the job,” Phoenix said. “And you went straight to the top!”

  “Now I just want to walk out.”

  “Terrible place, right?” Phoenix said, making an ugly face with Darkeem. “So, what’s the word out on the street?”

  “The military took care of the prison – that you know. Then there was St. David’s and Green Hills. This Psyke Virus – and I know you must know it by now – is lethal to large numbers of people very, very quickly.”

  “And that’s how it’s being used – end of world stuff, wouldn’t you guess?”

  “My thoughts exactly.”

  “Is everything contained?”

  “As of now, maybe,” Alaia said hopefully. “What’s left of Green Hills has been quarantined and there are no reports of any trouble. But, right now I can’t get anybody to tell me anything. I do know the governor is going to declare martial law starting at five tonight.”

  “Alaia,” Phoenix said. “Our perp is one of two people, and Cobb was in on it.”

  “Dr. Patrick Carson or Phillip Mercer – and, as far as we know, only Dr. Carson is alive.”

  “Do we have enough on him to bring him in?”

  “You’re asking if we can get a warrant? Kinda late for that, right?”

  Phoenix rubbed his chin. “I still don’t know what to make of Phillip Mercer, or whoever it is making us think he’s still alive,” Phoenix said. “You said there was DNA in his casket, but there was no body. The guy likes Krystal’s. And I took a bribe that got delivered in a Krystal’s bag, not to mention that I ate Krystal’s while I sat in jail.”

  “I’m not sure about Phillip Mercer being the perp,” Alaia said with a thoughtful look on her face.

  “He has to be involved.”

  “Hold on,” Alaia snapped. “Dr. Cain gave you that picture of the five friends, right? I was wondering who gave it to him.” She opened up a file folder and took out the picture and looked at it closely.

  “Fingerprinting won’t do,” Phoenix said. “But let me see it anyway.”

  Alaia handed him the photo.

  “Do you have a magnifying glass?” Phoenix asked.

  “Right here,” she said. She pulled open the top drawer of Phoenix’s desk and handed him his magnifying glass, the one he’d bought for himself.

  “This belongs to me, by the way,” Phoenix said, and he smiled. He looked closely at the picture, angling it for better light, then he glanced at Alaia. He looked at it close to the window, under the table lamp, and then near the closet. “So, do you want to look up Krystal’s coupons and see if this one is right for the date of the pic?”

  “Like I’m working for you now?” Alaia said in a shrill, bossy voice. Then she smiled. “Let me see it.” She took the picture from Phoenix, laid it down on the desk, and brought her face down close to the magnifying glass. “I can’t see any of the coupon – I mean I can’t see a dark place behind the cloth of Phillip Mercer’s pocket. Red coupon in a white pocket ought to show through.”

  “And the coupon looks flat, right?” Phoenix said with a smile. “Can you see what I’m talking about? And it doesn’t curve like Phillip Mercer’s chest.”

  “I see it.”

  “And there’s something else – the coupon kinda disappears in the corner before it touches the hem of the top pocket.”

  Alaia set the photo down. “Somebody wants us to finger Phillip Mercer – like that’s really going to change anything now.”

  “No, you’re missing something, Alaia,” Phoenix said. “People talented enough to wipe out humanity don’t photoshop clues that badly.”

  “You’re saying that---”

  “I’m saying that whoever photoshopped that picture wants us to know it,” Phoenix interrupted.

  “And they always want to be noticed, too,” Alaia said.

  “Unless Phillip Mercer is really alive and he wants us to think he’s not behind any of this. So, for now, that leaves Dr. Cain and Dr. Patrick Carson.”

  “Sorry about Dr. Cain,” Jenkins said in calm, clear voice. “He just up and vanished. The best we’ll be able to do with Dr. Carson is show up and talk to the receptionist. And if Dr. Carson refuses to cooperate, that will be that. But I’m forgetting – he seems to be missing, too, or we can’t get in contact with him.”

  “The mayor, then,” Phoenix said.

  “Good luck with that, too. Right now, Dr. Carson could walk out into the street and kill somebody and nobody’d bat an eyelash.”

  “But we could walk into his research lab and kill him, if he’s hiding in there, right?”

  “I didn’t hear that, Phoenix,” Alaia said, shaking her head. “And nobody else did, either. But I keep thinking back to the day you said you sold out to crime – you know, the Robin Hood case and the Krystal’s bag.”

  “What I can’t figure out is why he’s going through all this trouble to bail me out,” Phoenix said. “He warned me about Dr. Demachi and told me my gun had been used to kill him. He told me Demachi was about to get up, and he warned me about Cobb – who I shot dead – and then he got me out of the prison. A
ll of that by phone, except that he mailed me an old newspaper article about the theft of evidence in the Robin Hood case, and I found a note in my pocket that told me my wife was missing.”

  “Cobb must have put that note about your wife in your---”

  “I don’t know who else could have – but why Cobb? Why not a phone call? Cobb would know he’d never get away with this.”

  “Maybe he knew it wouldn’t matter,” Alaia said. She sat down and motioned for Phoenix to take a seat. “Here’s what I think happened. Let’s assume Cobb’s been getting phone calls, too. Now, the news article you received – that’s from our master mind, whoever he is. But Dr. Demachi? Killed with your gun – which you left sitting on your desk.”

  “Cobb.”

  “And the note in your pocket about your wife – Cobb, too,” Jenkins said. “I sure as hell didn’t leave you any note.”

  “But you could’ve.”

  “Yes, I could’ve.”

  “So I go to see Tracy, which is what I was going to do anyway, and I end up shooting her.”

  “That’s just somebody being mean and nasty so you’ll get tripped up. Somebody – and Cobb was in on it – wanted you to be to be out of the picture.”

  Phoenix stood up. “Dr. Cain’s missing. The only two real possibilities are Dr. Carson and---”

  “Phillip Mercer might not be dead, Phoenix. Just like you said, maybe he’s been saving you from Dr. Carson because he owes you big time for what you did for him. There’s no other explanation.”

  “Maybe you’re right,” Phoenix said. “Now for the final question. Why would either one of these guys want to kill everybody?”

  Chapter 20

  After dinner – Alaia had brought a couple bags of frozen entrees over, things like barbecue and stuffed chicken breasts – Phoenix remembered his pack and the chocolate Kellogg’s bars. He left Alaia and Darkeem in the kitchen and retrieved the pack, which he left sitting on the floor of his old office. When he returned to the kitchen, he opened it; and he remembered the small, round case that Chief Cobb had set down in his cell only moments before Phoenix had shot him. Alaia paid no attention to the strange box as she busied herself with clean up.

  Phoenix handed a Kellogg’s bar to Darkeem, then he opened the case. Inside, he found a chrome virtual-reality headset, or a halo, one not unlike those used by gamers, but different than anything he’d ever seen. He left it in the case, still wrapped in protective plastic, and he lifted the box to get an idea of its weight.

  “Alaia?” Phoenix said. “Do you recognize this?”

  “Can’t you see I’m cleaning up after you?”

  “I will admit that you’ve cleaned up after me more than you deserve,” Phoenix said. “And yes, you deserve my old job. But just come over here, okay?”

  Alaia stopped washing the plates. Her hands were covered with soap suds, but she came over to the small wooden table where Phoenix and Darkeem were sitting. She looked at the round, black case and squished her eyebrows together. “If that’s one of those things for men, you know, that goes with the doll, I don’t want to know about it.”

  “I would guess this is for anybody.” Phoenix carefully lifted the device out of the box. He removed the plastic bag from around it, noticing that it had been cut with scissors, and saw that it was attached by a wire to a round, flat, dark object about the size of a portable hard drive. He removed everything and set the whole contraption on the table. “This is what Cobb brought into my cell before I killed him.”

  “Yeah, I remember seeing him with this,” Alaia said, “but it didn’t really register.”

  “He brought it for a reason. A man coming into my cell to kill me isn’t going to bring something he doesn’t need. This looks like a virtual reality headset. I don’t use these things, but I’ve seen them before. And this one doesn’t quite look like the others I’ve seen.”

  “Look for a name, or a serial number, and we’ll look it up when I ‘m done,” Alaia said. “And look at how it shines.”

  Phoenix held it up to the fluorescent lights, angling it carefully, trying to keep from pulling on the wire that connected it to the hard drive. “I can’t see a name or anything. But this metal – it’s got a bluish white cast to it. Maybe silver. It doesn’t look like a cheap headset.” He looked at Alaia, who was now hanging over him, and he looked into her shirt, pausing for just a second as her cleavage nearly toppled out into his face. Alaia saw him looking.

  “I know you’re not doing what I think you’re doing, are you?” She straightened up and pulled her shirt. “Darkeem, you need to meet me in my office. So why don’t you run up there. I’ll bring up some popcorn and we’ll put in a movie in a few minutes.”

  Darkeem smiled, got up, and ran out of the kitchen.

  “No, I wasn’t … I need your silver necklace,” Phoenix said. “You’re wearing one. Can you take it off, please?”

  “My necklace or my clothes?”

  Alaia bent over again, leaning forward and raising her chin, right in front of Phoenix. He reached into her shirt with a smirk on his face and hesitated. He wasn’t about to reach in and free the necklace from between her two, magnificent---

  “If you want it, you’re just going to have reach out and take it,” Alaia said. “I’ve got soap on my hands.” She shook her upper body magnificently, and her breasts, firm and not overly large, nearly flying free of their tight, almost shear cups, swung from side to side. The necklace dropped out.

  Phoenix reached up and around her neck, unfastened the catch, and removed the braided, silver necklace. A small pendant, probably onyx, was its only ornament. Alaia stood up. He laid the necklace against the headset and held it up to the light. “Okay,” he said. “This headset isn’t silver. It’s platinum. See the bluish cast? And it weighs about two pounds – much too heavy for a virtual reality headset, wouldn’t you think?”

  “Two pounds of platinum?” Alaia responded excitedly. “And platinum sells for over a thousand dollars an ounce, times thirty-two, and that thing has a metal value of thirty-two thousand dollars, not including the technology.”

  “This isn’t for kids games or men who do virtual porn, that’s for sure,” Phoenix said. “We need to do a web search on platinum virtual reality headsets. Can we make that happen?”

  “You mean, ‘can I make that happen’?” Alaia shot back. “I’ll try, but I doubt if I can focus, especially after you’ve been reaching into my shirt trying to undress me.”

  “No, Alaia, I just unchained you.” Phoenix smiled, he handed the chain back to Alaia. “There, I’ll let you put it back on.”

  “Gee, that was quick. Is it time to smoke yet?”

  There was laughter coming from Phoenix’s old office. He’d just finished checking the vault downstairs, securing the doors, and now he’d just come up to the second floor via the stair well. He stopped and smiled. The movie must have been a good one – he could hear Alaia and Darkeem laughing.

  The remaining officers, five of them, were gone for good – so they told him before they left the building. Their decision came as no surprise to him. If he’d had a family, and he’d learned the military had just bombed the prison, he would’ve left Nashville, too. He would have just loaded everyone up and headed south for Decherd where his uncle lived in the woods. Or maybe Beech Grove, Monteagle, or Sewanee. Anywhere but here.

  Single officers, officers without families, had gone earlier, either joining up with the National Guard units, or they had simply changed out of their uniforms during the riots and slipped away to join up with their community self-protection groups.

  As far as NPD was concerned, the main office on Harding Place was now empty and no longer open for official business.

  But that also meant Phoenix was free to do as he chose.

  He quietly walked over to his office, stepping lightly in his boots, and slowly looked in on Alaia and Darkeem. Alaia had set up Chief Cobb’s flat screen on the window ledge, along with its surround sound system, and she�
��d dropped the solid white window shades completely, shutting out the darkness. No need to talk business, he thought – Alaia had probably already found all she could on the internet regarding the headset. Better to let them laugh a little. Let them laugh all night if the mood struck them. By morning, Nashville would be empty of anybody decent – and the streets would probably be left to the looters and gangs. The Guard troops would be here. They’d use the opportunity to hone their skills, engage in a little martial law-style target practice, then become gangs themselves if this thing got out of hand.

  Phoenix had seen the reports on the internet. By five, the official launch of martial law for Middle Tennessee had gone into effect. If you weren’t out by then, you had to be indoors by five, and you would not be able to leave Tennessee until after martial law had been lifted.

  Alaia turned and saw Phoenix. She waved her hand for him to come in and join them. He smiled because, for once, she was actually inviting him to join her, not because she had to, but because she probably wanted him there. Her eyes looked carefree – that was good – and they seemed to say to Phoenix that the honor of his attending her little party would be hers and that, if he refused, she’d kick his butt. Hardly the kind of offer to be refused, he thought, and he ambled in and sat down in the only seat left.

  Phoenix’s old desk had been pushed against the wall to make space in the room. Rolled up in the corner, by the closet, he saw bedrolls of sorts. They were made up of sheets, blankets, and eggshell mattress covers. Two packs, full, with sleeping bags attached, leaned up against the wall in the corner, just to the left of the window sill. Several cardboard boxes with lids were stacked next to them. Darkeem was sitting in the chair closest to the window. Alaia was sitting to his left and a foot or two behind him. Phoenix sat next to Alaia.

  Phoenix watched Alaia from the corner of his eye. She’d changed into shorts, red ones, shorts cut so high they left little to the imagination of even the unimaginative. Her legs, the lightest brown, recently shaved, ended in painted, light pink toenails. She had on a pair of braided, crisscross sandals only a shade darker than her legs. She must have seen him looking: she slipped the sandal off of her right foot, crossed her legs, and brought her foot up and under the hem of Phoenix’s right leg. She lifted it up, gently, and raised it until, just above his short sock, she found her mark.